Knots
by whosent
Summary: The team investigtes a series of murders. The murderers don't like this and target the team members to make them give up the case. This story contains serious themes; this is a warning. If offense occurs, it is the reader's problem.


"No!" the woman struggled against the five burly men dragging her. "No- just let me go. My husband has money!" The man in the lead paused, patting his greased hair back into place, and the others followed suit. "Yes!" the woman sobbed. "He's a very rich, powerful man. He could give you enough support so that you never have to ever work again!"

The leading man smiled. " Yeah- he has got a lotta money, hasn't he?" he trailed his hand down her face. " But, sweetheart, he owes us big time. You see," the man turned away and began to walk again. "The games we play are what got your hussie where he is. But, the last time we played, the old boy decided he was gonna cheat. Now, darlin', we just can't have that sorta play, can we." He winked at her. "Don't worry hon', he's got too much money for us to lose-we aren't gonna hurt him. We just need to teach him a lesson."

_Screaming, blood, rotting...No! No..._

The case was a weird one. Eight bodies had been found hanging from a tree in various states of decomposition. All were middle aged or younger, and belonged to influential families. The words "Play Right" were painted in blood on the trunk of the tree, and the innards of the victims had been arranged in a peculiar pattern at the base of the tree. The only link between the victims was their family status of rich and powerful.

The tree, a California redwood, was located in a park in the centre of Sacramento. The scene was called in at 3am by a group of drunks walking (stumbling) back to their houses. I can't stand drunk people. The case was referred to us only half an hour later, interrupting the best sleep I'd had in a very long time. No dreams, no waking up for no reason...

_The phone rings, rings, rings. My hand reaches out to stop the annoying sound, only for it to change to an even less pleasant noise._

"_Get your but down here, Lisbon; we have 8 victims in a public area, meaning you have to get Jane and do your thing veeery quickly, and preferably be done by daylight so the locals can clean up. You hear, Lisbon?"_

_I sigh and pick up the receiver._

"_I'm there already, boss."_

"_Good. See to it the rest of your team is too. I'll see the report at a reasonable time on my desk, got that?"_

Damn, I hate mornings.

The case was going well. We'd be getting some good leads- our suspect broke under Cho's stare in record time. He was pouring out his heart to the stoic agent as I watched. I smiled to myself and shook my head. It was just like Jane to pick the one who'd talk. He got on my nerves 24-7, but when he hit the jackpot it was worth the suffering.

"Lisbon- can I see the crime scene photos?" Speak of the devil...

I passed him the file and waited patiently for him to tell me his tale of terror.

"Well, it's not because of something the victims did, or for money..."

"Why?" I frowned. The money was my only link, damn it.

"Because the victims weren't ransomed. If the killers had the initiative and abilities to catch, torture and -"he hesitated, "arrange their victims without any witnesses or complaints of noise, they are organised enough to have held and ransomed the people; the time taken to leave a message is what implies it wasn't the victims that the act was aimed to influence," he paused.

"Tortured? Have the autopsy reports been finished?" I asked.

"No, no, but if you look at the photos, the...cuts... have raised edges and show evidence of clotting, meaning they were made before death was instigated. Not to mention the last victim was only missing for four days, but the person in the photo looks like they haven't had a meal in weeks... definitely torture. Also, considering the large time between capture and death, something had to happen- again, torture."

"Oh, so we're forensics now, are we, Jane?"

"As good, Lisbon." He said and winked.

"Okay, so they were tortured. If it's not for money, or for the victims to learn a lesson, then the purpose was... to teach their families a lesson? But for what?"

"Good, Lisbon... Yes, to teach the families something. That message intrigues me, seeing as we've decided this case doesn't directly involve money. "Play Right"... now, I would have thought gambling or casino of some sort; unfortunately, none of the families seem to be having financial problems that would result from the use. I got Van-pelt to check the data base for criminal records on the victims, but nothing showed."

"Hmmm..." I looked back to the questioning.

"You say you don't have any names. You saw five men with trolleys walk past you in the park? Were there any noises or movements from the trolleys?"

"No," the man said, his dishevelled, uncut hair flopping in his eye. "There were a funny smell, but that don't mean nothing to me... you get all sorts in the park."

"Did the men say anything?" Cho asked, staring at the witness.

"Yeah, yeah... One was mutterin' like, talkin' 'bout how they never got no thanks for their good work, that the money might be good but the work ain't and they ought be gettin' better buks. Said somethin' 'bout a trundle wheel or somthin' ." Cho noted it down.

"Can you tell me how they looked?"

"Shifty... yeah, shifty-like. Wearin' nice leather for homeless guys, remember thinkin'. Big sorts, biker types. Two bout his size, but broader and with beards an' moes-" the homeless man nodded towards Rigsby-"and one tall and thin. Another was short and fat-like, and the last was 'bout your size, and had all 'is hair greased back nice-like."

Cho wrote the descriptions in his notebook.

"Does this symbol left at the crime scene mean anything to you?" Cho handed the homeless man a photograph.

"Wha- is that- ewwww. No, I never seen it before. Look, can I go now? This is prime time to haggle money off the park people. I don't wanna lose my spot."

Cho sighed and stood up.

"Yes, you can go," he said, glancing at the one way mirror I was standing behind. "We may have some follow up questions later. Your cooperation has been exemplary."

"Happy to help," the homeless man said as he exited.

"Well, the descriptions are very detailed," Cho said to me sarcastically.

"It's better than nothing, and he was very helpful," I replied. I glanced at Jane.

"I have to interview the families now. Would you mind helping?"

"Ah, Lisbon. I'm touched! Is this permission? Does this mean you'll let me ask the questions?" the man beamed at me. "I knew you were going to relax your restrictions sooner or later. Thanks- I'll grab you a coffee." He basically skipped out the door. I sighed again. Infuriating.

"Cho, I want you and Rigsby to search the database for a "Trundle". When I'm done here, show me what you've got."

"Sure boss."

The middle aged man in the interview room had bags under his red, swollen eyes. The rest of his appearance was in contrast; he wore immaculate, expensive, designer-brand clothing, and a pair of mirrored designer sunglasses lay on his perfectly combed greying hair. He wore a pure gold anchor around his neck to represent his ownership of a luxury liner cruise business. His flawlessly manicured hands were steepled in front of him.

I sipped my coffee and sat down across from the grieving widower. Jane stood behind me.

"Mr Wenacey, I'm sorry about your wife. Would you like something to drink?"

"No, I'm good. All I want right now is to see the bastards that did this in jail," the man wiped his eyes with a pearl white, satin napkin.

Inwardly I groaned. This sort were always hard to deal with. Jane moved out from behind me and sat in the chair next to the widower. I glanced at him before continuing.

"Mr Wenacey, do you currently have any enemies? Anyone who you or your family may have upset recently?" I placed my coffee on the table.

The man frowned.

"Of course we had enemies! We have the nicest house in the suburb and our kids go to the best private college in California. We are rich, ma'am, and everyone was jealous of it." He ran his eyes over my suit. It was slightly rumpled, and the common brand was visible on the tag that poked out from behind my neck. His tears had vanished without a trace. I felt the urge to roll my eyes, but resisted.

Janes eyes followed Mr Wenacey's before returning to the widower's face, a half smile turning his lips.

"Mr Wenacey, is there anyone in specific you feel was... jealous... enough to have done this to your wife?" I said, attempting to remain civil.

"There's all sorts around, agent. If I think of anyone, you'll be the first I tell." The man ran his eyes again over my attire, a strange, almost leering smile on his face. I struggled not to frown at him.

"I think I'd best be going, agents," Mr Wenacey said, barely glancing at Jane but continuing to look at me. "My kids will be wondering where I am."

"Just a few minutes more of your time, please. I have a few more questions." Jane spoke before I could. The widower paused in the action of getting out of his chair.

"Please, I insist," Jane persevered. I frowned at him and shook my head slightly. He smiled, but otherwise ignored me.

The man sighed sufferingly and returned to his seat.

"Tell me, when did you first cheat on your wife?" Jane asked callously. I almost wacked my head on the desk in frustration.

Mr Wenacey again began to rise. "What kind of a question-" he began heatedly

"Oh, please, there's no need for embarrassment. It is fairly obvious. I mean, you're hardly torn up over her death." Jane put up his hand to stop the widower's interruption. "Something is upsetting you, though...Sure, you still liked your wife a little, but something else is what has you really bothered-Ah! Her murder was aimed at you, wasn't it, Mr Wenacey?" Jane smiled, looking pleased with himself.

"You pissed off the wrong people...Maybe slept with someone's wife? Playing the game... only they didn't see it like that, did they? So they taught you a lesson. Maybe next time it'll be your kids, or even you."

" I don't know what you're talking about." The widower turned to me.

"Your man here is out of control, agent. I'm going to see you both disciplined for these insults. I have connections-" I held up my hands calmingly and opened my mouth to speak. Jane interrupted.

"Please be quiet. Tell me, does this mean anything to you?"

Jane waved the crime scene photo underneath the man's nose. The widower stiffened and paled.

"I...that... that is-the sign tattooed into-of-of-ah, that is..."

"Yes?" Jane smiled.

Mr Wenacey sat down looking shaky. He took a deep breath.

"A few years ago, I had a gambling problem. I borrowed money from some guy, Trundle. He was only a little player then, but I hear he's got something going now... he specialised in loans and... getting rid of problems. I got over my problem, paid back the debt I owed... He said he'd be in touch, and-" the man paused and glanced sideways at me. "This isn't a confession, okay? This is off the record. I'm just telling you this so you get the bastard, okay?"

I nodded encouragingly. Jane smiled knowingly.

"We did some deals, I helped get some of his pals out of jail, they got me some connections. We were having a good thing. Only, the deals were getting shiftier. I told him I wanted out, and he seemed okay with it." He paused.

"Is that the last time you made contact with him?" I asked.

"Well... no." He shifted uncomfortably.

Jane laughed.

"And here's the part about the affairs. I knew we'd get there eventually."

The man glared at Jane.

"I had gotten friendly with some of the big players' wives. It wasn't anything serious. We're still in touch."

"Can you give us names?" I asked.

The man's eyes turned again to me and his initial superior air returned.

"That depends. I'd like to remain anonymous; I don't want to go to court, and if I feel my family and I are threatened I'd like protection."

"We'll see what we can do. Do you know where we could find him?" Stupid man.

He smirked at me.

"Sure. They're all at a bar called Knots. That's what the symbol represents."

I stood.

"I'll go see what I can arrange. Please remain here; I'll be back in about five minutes."

"I'll be here." His eyes never left me. I was starting to feel uncomfortable.

Jane opened the door for me and we began to walk to Minelli's office.

"Jane, why do you do this to me? He has lots of money. He _could_ get us both fired."

"I didn't like the way he was eyeing you."

I paused in disbelief. "That's all?"

"What? It was derogatory. I was defending your right to not have middle-aged me leer at you."

So I was right. He _was _leering.

"Incidentally, that's also how I realised he was having affairs." I rose an eyebrow.

"Well, as soon as you walked in the room, he perked up, sat straighter and didn't take his eyes off you. He hated it when I stood behind you, and relaxed a little when I moved away."

"So he was eyeing me off. And that is worth losing our jobs for?"

"Yes."

I sighed. There was just no arguing with him. He was impossible.

"So what do you think? Was he telling the truth?" I asked Jane.

"He certainly believes he is. I think we've had problems with the bar he mentioned before- suspected for a series of rapes and kidnappings last year?"

"Yeah- only we couldn't get enough evidence. I'll get Van-pelt to look it up."

I stopped. Jane looked at me.

"Is Mr Wenacey involved more deeply with the gang than he said? It felt like he was leaving something out."

Jane hesitated.

"I think that the purpose of his friendly advances with the women was to get inside info on Trundle's activities. It's possible he heard they were going to start a market in competition to his own, or something similar. He may have thought he could sabotage their plans from the inside."

I nodded.

"Go see if you can find any information. I'll find Minelli, try to talk him into getting the guy immunity."

Minelli's office had a homey feel about it; It was a comfy size, big enough to move but small enough to give a sense of security.

"You're saying he doesn't want to be mentioned in the files at all? But if his testimony is what will put these guys away..."

"He was adamant about not being mentioned. He seemed to think it might damage his safety."

Minelli sighed.

"Ok Lisbon, but it's your arse on the line. Something happens, it's your fault. Got that?"

"Yes, sir." I smiled. He always ended up letting me do what I wanted.

"Hmmm."

I walked back to the conference room. As I entered the corridor, a glass shattered and someone screamed. I pulled out my gun and ran towards the noise. I saw other agents doing the same behind me. I turned a corner to see a dark shape come out of the conference room Mr Wenacey had occupied. He was about Rigsby's size, as he turned towards me I saw facial hair. Damn...

"Freeze!" I shouted, aiming my pistol at him. "I have a gun!"

The man turned back and dove around a corner. Crap. I sprinted to the corner, my gun ready, to see him jumping out of the second story window.

"Damn." I went to the window and looked out to see him running down the street.

"Agent Lisbon!" one of the other agents yelled out to me from the conference room. Glancing once more out the window, I went back to the room.

I came to the door and saw Mr Wenacey sprawled on the desk, a pool of crimson leaking onto the table, running around the edges of my coffee cup. I walked over to him.

"Someone call an ambulance," I said to the other agents. They nodded and someone pulled out a mobile.

I leaned over to check the man's pulse when he grabbed my wrist and pulled me down to his level.

"Jace, Francis, Clydesdale, Mc Dougit," he gurgled around bubbles of blood into my ear.

"Get my kids looked after."

With that he fell backwards out of his chair, the knife wound in his neck gaping, his life blood spurting out. The wound was so open, I could see the white of bone beneath the red. Wait, no... not bone. Steeling myself, I used the edge of the man's shirt to pull out the little white card pushed into his throat. I blinked as I read it, feeling a little ill.

_Do you really want to play, Teresa?_

"I have to give you the option of dropping this case, agent Lisbon. This is a threat to your life, and the bureau will understand if you would like someone else to take the lead." Minelli folded his arms and stared at me very hard.

"No way, boss," I protested. "This gives me even more reason to close the case as quickly as possible."

Minelli dropped his hands to his desk leaning over them.

"You're sure about this? They walked right under our noses, Agent Lisbon. Even being in the CBI doesn't garuntee your safety."

"I'll be fine boss." He stared more, then nodded.

"Ok, do your best. The offer will stand."

I walked back to my unit. Shit, were they out to get me? I took a deep breath and walked faster.

I entered our department. Jane was lying on his couch, but had his eyes open, and was staring hard at Rigsby and Cho, who stood around Van-pelt's computer. The men moved to the side, allowing me to see the screen.

"Van-pelt, I need you to run a search on these names," I handed her the list. "What have you got on the Knots?"

Van-pelt shifted in her seat."They're a nasty piece of work, boss." She pressed a few buttons on her keyboard. A picture of the symbol from the crime scene filled the screen, red on black. "This is their web page."

"They have a web page?" Wow.

"Yeah, and it's got the whole works. Merchandise, magazines, daily blogs. There's even a "how to join" page."She clicked her mouse.

"Various gangs related to the bar are suspected of over 100 different murders relating to drugs, gambling, and prostitution. It's suspected they also do paid work..."

"Assassinations?" Damn.

"Yes boss. There are over 500 members signed up over California, doing anything from advertising to more shady stuff. The members have all sorts of jobs, they're from all over... doctors, police, tradesmen... they've got the lot, boss."

"Damn. What about the other name, Trundle?"

Van pelt hit some more keys. "There were five hits. Greg, Mark, Peter, Anne and Helen. "

"Ok, Cho, Rigsby- get me profiles on all of them and bring me what you get. I want criminal records, origins, the works. I'll be in my office."

I made myself a coffee before entering my office and sitting down. I pulled up the Knots web page on my own computer and had a closer look. Damn, they did look like bad news... I couldn't believe this was the first we were hearing about them.

"Lisbon?"

I looked up from my work to see Jane standing at my door.

"Can I help you?"

"Are you okay?" he said, moving up to my desk. "You seem preoccupied." I had told the team about Mr Wenacey's death, but neglected to tell them of the card. There was no point, it would just distract them. I sighed. Of course Jane would guess.

"I'm fine."

"Lisbon, if I can help...?"

I'm fine, Jane."

Van-pelt knocked on my office door. "Boss? I have the stuff on the names." Relief.

She walked in and handed me the files.

"Jace, Francis, Clydesdale, Mc Dougit. All four have criminal records, ranging from petty theft and substance abuse and possession to unproven murder and rape charges," She paused. "Minelli said he wants to see you in his office. I'll leave these with you."

"I'll be right there, thanks Van-pelt."

As I walked to my boss's office I noticed Jane tagging along behind me.

"You know, I found a deeper link between the families involved."

The families had all clammed up after Mr Wenacey's death.

"Yeah?" I kept walking.

"Yes. You see, not only are all the families rich, they all got rich very suddenly around four years ago. For no apparent reason, all their businesses suddenly bloomed. Then hey-presto, millionaires."

We reached the door of Minelli's office.

"Can you look into that Jane? Maybe this Trundle guy new all of them.

"Sure thing, Lisbon."

I knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Jane followed me in as I sat opposite Minelli. The boss barely glanced at Jane before focussing his attention on me.

"Agent Lisbon, these just came in for you at the front desk." He held out a vase full of blood red roses.

"There was no note, but there is a one-cent piece in the bottom of the vase."

He looked hard at me.

"My offer still stands."

"That's fine boss." I was a little shaken, but...

"Camera footage, sir?"

Minelli shook his head.

"It was sent in with the mail, no actual drop off." He sighed. "Lisbon-"

"It's fine, boss," I interrupted. I got up. "This man, Trundle, he's looking good for the murders."

He sighed again. "Be careful."

"Will be," I said, and left.

I walked through the car park to my car. Trundle was looking like our guy. It would be a problem- the man obviously had connections; it seemed like he'd put everyone who mattered on the elevator, that the only reason anyone had any status around here was because of him.

The profiles on the men matched those given by the homeless man witness. The media was buzzing for the profiles. I sighed. We had to wrap up this case quickly, before to many people got involved.

I sighed. The suspects were all deep into the shady stuff; they'd all served around five years each all up, the only thing police being able to find evidence on them being fraud, petty theft and possession. Their profiles suggested they were involved in rape, murder, and abductions, but insufficient evidence was found to put them away.

I dug into my left hand jacket pocket for my keys.

"Damn," I exclaimed as I pricked my finger on something in my pocket and drew my hand out, causing the keys to fall to the ground. I frowned as I reached carefully back into my pocket and pulled out the object.

As soon as I looked at it, I was reaching for my gun and spinning around to search the car park. I wasn't feeling the effects of what was on the needle yet, so I carefully pulled out my phone and rang my unit.

_"Van-Pelt, Murder and Serious Crimes."_

"Van-pelt? It's Lisbon. I'm in the car park and I think I've been injected with something. I found the needle in my pocket." There was a murmur of voices as the team discussed what to do. Wait... were things getting darker? Was the world supposed to move around me? Hmm...

_"Okay boss, you stay where you are. Rigsby and Cho are coming out to get you. Even if it's nothing, at least we won't be taking chances."_

"Thanks, I-" _Now, I know my legs aren't supposed to do that_. I registered with surprise that the phone was no longer by my ear, and that the sky was right in front of my eyes instead of above me like it should've been.

_"Boss? Boss!"_

As the shadows grew even darker, I saw vague silhouettes coming to stand in front of me.

"Cho?" I slurred.

A malicious laugh clawed its way to my ears as the world slipped away from me.

"Not this time, darlin'; let's take your car, shall we?" I felt someone tuck my hair behind my ear and gather me in their arms, lifting me and my keys, before everything faded to black.

My head felt like it had been smashed with a baseball bat. My wrists and ankles hurt from the ties around them, and I could feel cords cutting into my neck and waist. My breathing was made hard by the cloth in my mouth, held there by masking tape. My eyes were covered by a cloth.

I lay still, trying to hear if anyone was around me. I smelled a man's perfume, and... my soap? I was in my apartment? Shit.

I heard voices coming from a few rooms away, but nothing closer. I cautiously moved a little, feeling my surroundings. I was in a bedroom, my bedroom, the straps around my feet and wrists securely wrapped around the bed posts. My mattress was removed, and I was lying on the wire netting it normally rested on; the straps around my neck and waist (and my thighs, I realised) were tied under the bed.

I tensed my muscles and pulled against the restraints, trying to cause some give. After a little while I gave up and fell back to the bed.

"Well, Agent, I think you and I can agree that you aren't going anywhere," a tailored voice made me start. Crap. Where'd he come from?

"I suppose you've realised we took you home? I must say, you were in a horrible state when we found you. You should be more careful with your pockets, darlin'." I felt him move up beside me. He sat on the bed next to my waist and began to stroke my hair.

"Now. Teresa. Can I call you that? Or Res, maybe. Yes. Res, sweetheart, we need to talk about this case. You see, I know you're just doing your job, hon', but really, I think you need to let this one go. We can't let you get too close- we'd like to stay on the down-low, if you take my meaning." The man leaned forward and rubbed his nose on my cheek. He took a deep breath through his nose, and ran his lips over my skin. I flinched.

"I hope we can convince you to let it be without having to harm that lovely body of yours, sweet," he whispered in my ear, his hands finding their way to my torso. I felt all my muscles tense up. I'd be damned if these people were going to be in control. I hated not being able to fight back.

He stroked my chest, and my fist clenched, and I strained against the straps in an attempt to punch him in the face. He laughed.

"That's the way hon', fight me back. I'd love to let your straps loose- I bet you'd be fun. Unfortunately, I'll have to delay my fun, at least until you get the bureau off our backs."

He rubbed his hand across my body once more, then licked my cheek. What a creep...

"This is your first warning, Res, darlin'. Next time the warning will be more... forceful. Honestly, you're lucky this time. Let alone the other boys, I'll actually have to tear myself away from you. You're temptin', hon'. You know, I actually had to lock the boys in your kitchen to keep them from touching you? See, you owe me now," he leant back to my ear, pressing his whole body onto mine. I felt him harden, and that scared me more than anything.

"I just might come and collect..."

He drew back.

"I'll ...see... you round, Res, darling. Take care now?"

"Come on, Trundle! Someone's pulled up!" yelled a voice in the background.

I heard the front door close lightly soon after he left. Trundle? I filed away the information I'd been able to gather on the man. Thirty to forty, wore expensive perfume, probably had a record of rape or sexual abuse. My nose itched. I thoughtlessly tried to reach up and scratch it before remembering my predicament.

I took some deep breaths. How was I going to get out of this?

I began to twist from side to side in an attempt to loosen my bonds. I felt my left arm give a little, and focussed my attentions there.

"Lisbon?" I froze mid struggle. "Lisbon? You here?"

I began to shout through the cloth, trying to make him hear me. The muffled sounds must have made some noise, because the next thing I heard was from my door.

"Shit, Lisbon!" Jane almost shouted. I heard him run to my bedside and begin to undo the knots holding me in place.

"What happened?" he said as soon as my gag was off.

" A 'Mr Trundle' decided to pay me a visit," I said through deep breaths. Jane removed my blind fold and I blinked several times, my eyes adjusting to the light.

As my vision cleared, Van-pelt appeared in the doorway.

"Boss?" she looked surprised.

"Yes, I'm still alive," I said smiling a little at the shocked expression on her face. Relief was peaking out from behind the confusion.

"Yes, thank god, but, how-"

"It seems they wanted to give us a message. A sort of 'stay off our turf' thing. They said this was first warning." I got up as Jane undid the last strap. I massaged my wrists.

"Four of the men were in my kitchen. We need to get it dusted for prints. This alone will be enough to get them all a few years, let alone the murder charges."

Van-pelt looked a little unsure.

"Boss-"

I smiled gently.

"I'm okay, Van-pelt. I wasn't hurt, and standing around isn't going to help anybody. We need to get some evidence, find these men, and put them away. The Trundle we're looking for is in his thirties or forties, has a considerable amount of money, and probable has a criminal record."

"Yes, boss." She backed up and went to my phone to call forensics.

"Lisbon-" Jane began.

"I know Jane, I should have told you about the note."

"Yes, you should have," he said, sounding a little wounded. "What if you had been hurt?"

"I wasn't, Jane."

"This time, Lisbon. But what about next time? Did they tell you what they'd do if you didn't leave them alone?"

"Yes, they did."

"And?"

"What do you want me to say, Jane? They still would have found a way to get their message across, and maybe instead of no one being hurt, they may have sent the message with a bullet or something."

He move towards me as I paused, causing me to take a sharp breath.

"What did they say, Lisbon?" he backed me into the corner. I tried to push past him, but he put his hand onto the wall to block my path. I shifted on my feet, trying to find an opening.

"Jane-"

"What did they say, Lisbon?" He stared at me.

"Look, I don't-I need to go and-" I pushed against his arm, avoiding his eyes.

"I know what they said," Jane said, forcing me back against the wall, and holding my chin so he could look at my face, judge my reactions. Damn him...

"They're going to use you, aren't they, Lisbon? Hurt you, make you stop hunting them."

I wrenched my chin from his grasp and shoved past him. I stalked to the door, determinedly looking forward, ignoring Jane.

He remained where he was, looking after me as I left, his face clouded by some emotion.

"So what have we got? I asked as the forensic scientist led me to the lab.

The weedy looking man was tall and thin, and walked strangely similar to how one would imagine an over grown insect would.

"Well, as you, ah, suspected, there um, were fingerprints all over your, ah, kitchen." The man began haltingly. "There are four distinct fingerprints, ah, belonging to your, um, case suspects. The fifth, ah, Trundle, didn't come up on any screens, but the, ah, other prints are, um, clear as day."

"They can be used as incriminating evidence? They'll hold up in court?"

"Certainly."

Good. Score for us.

Jane knew something was wrong as he stepped from his car. The area was too quiet; the insects weren't chirping, no cars pulled onto the street. The dogs weren't even barking.

He heard a whine from his neighbour's house, and looked over to see the two dogs chained and muzzled. He heard a noise behind him and began to spin around, but froze as he felt the cold metal of a gun barrel press into the side of his head.

"Hey, man," a cultured voice cut through the still night. Jane noticed several figures detach themselves from Jane's fence.

"Evening, gentlemen," Jane smiled, trying to hide his apprehension. "Can I help you with anything?"

"Why, yes you can! You see," the man turned Jane towards his own house, marching him through the gate. "Your boss isn't taking our warning seriously enough. Fortunately for her, our boss has found a soft spot for her." A slightly sour tone entered his voice. "Although, if this doesn't work, we might get to play with her. She's a nice piece of woman..." he trailed off, no longer sour, and laughed suggestively.

"So this had better work, hey?"

Jane didn't see it coming until the fist hovered in front of his eyes, and the night seemed to swallow him up.

"Jane?" I frowned as I poked my head out of my office and saw he wasn't on his couch. He was late a lot of the time, but midday was excessive, even for him.

I pulled out my mobile and dialled his number.

Come on Jane, pick up...

"Jane," he answered. I frowned again. His voice sounded odd.

"Jane, are you okay? Why haven't you come into work?" I heard his sigh over the line.

"To tell the truth, I just woke up. Lisbon, I'm really sore. Could you come and pick me up?"

"Sore? Jane, is everything alright?"

"I don't know." I took a breath. He didn't know? Crap.

"I'll be there in five."

I knocked on the open door of his house (mansion?) and cautiously pushed it completely open.

"Jane? You there?"I heard his strained voice from upstairs.

" Here."

I reached the top of the stairs to find a dishevelled, bloody Jane crawling on the carpet towards the staircase.

"Jane? Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you?"

"Actually, I don't remember exactly," he lay down and I quickly moved to support his head. His hands moved to his jean pocket. He pulled out a white card, like the one I'd removed from Wenacey's throat.

"Said to give it to you..."

The man trailed off as he lost consciousness.

"Jane? Shit." I pulled out my phone and dialled 911.

"Emergency services, what is the emergency?"

I sat in the waiting room and looked at the card Jane had given me.

_Now, now, Res. What did we talk about?_

"Agent Lisbon?" a nurse stood in front of me.

"Is he okay?"

"He's fine. A black eye and a cut lip. His nose wasn't broken. He needs rest, but there'll be no permanent damage. He can leave in a couple of hours." She smiled at me. "He's conscious, and is asking for you."

"Thanks."

Jane looked up as I entered.

"Lisbon! Nice of you to visit me. You know I get out soon?" I frowned at him.

"The nurse said you wanted to see me?"

"Yes." He sobered up. "I can guess what was on the card I gave you. Listen Lisbon, you need to close this case. I suggest you get guard protection for everyone in the team, including yourself and Minelli."

"Jane, you could have been seriously injured-"

"But I wasn't." He smirked, no doubt finding similarities between my earlier predicament and his current. "If you don't get these criminals, more people will get hurt, or more likely, killed. You need to close the case as quickly as possible to minimise casualties."

"That's some interesting logic."

"You know I'm right, Lisbon. Get the guards and continue with the case."

Minelli thought it over. You could see his brain ticking.

"Ok Lisbon. I'll give you 72 hours of guards. If this case isn't closed by then, or well on the way, I'm taking your team off the case."

"Thanks boss. It'll be closed." He harrumphed and bent down to do some paperwork, a clear dismissal.

My guards followed me everywhere, like big brutish shadows. I tried smiling at them, but they didn't even seem to see me. The team was distinctly uncomfortable with the guards, but the work continued nonetheless.

"Boss. We just got a call. Two of the suspects have been seen at that bar, the Knots,"Cho hung up the phone.

"Okay. Rigsby, Cho, Van-pelt, get a team together with the local police, we're going to bust the bar."

I got up. "Jane, you stay out of the way, okay? I don't want you to join the body count." He nodded.

We came up beside the bar, twenty armed officers in Kevlar, crouched over. I motioned for the man to open the door.

"Police! On the ground, now!"

We moved in, our weapons drawn.

"Boss!" I looked over. "Here they are."

The two men lay on the floor, one of them visibly shaking. The other looked around at me.

"Hey- you're that girl..." he trailed off and went limp on the floor. "Damn it. I knew we shouldn't have come today, Dale."

I sat in the conference room across from Clydesdale and Francis.

"So." I smiled at them. "You gentlemen will be going to jail, serving up to five years each, for holding a police officer against their will. Is there anything you want to say?"

The men didn't say anything. The door clicked closed and I turned to see Jane coming up beside me.

"You mind, Lisbon?" he grinned at me. I should have known.

"Gentlemen." He went over and sat between them, placing his hands on their shoulders. "Gentlemen. We have some discussing to do. You see, I don't like what your boss planned for my friend here, and I certainly don't like what you guys did to me. I'm going to hurt for weeks! So here's the deal. You fess up for the murders of those eight people, and we'll place you as accessory to murder. Only gets you ten years. It's a pretty good deal, boys."

The men looked at each other. Expressions that had started out as poker faces now threatened to crumble. They assumed we had evidence on them for the murders.

"Can we discuss this for a minute?" Francis asked politely.

"Sure thing," Jane said. He got up and led me out of the office.

"Jane, What are you doing?" I crossed my arms and frowned at him.

"Oh, relax Lisbon. I've already gone through this with Minelli. He approved the deal. Said it was probably true anyway."

"And you couldn't tell me about this before I went in there?"

"Well no, actually. Your being surprised gives the good-cop, bad-cop impression. Makes them like me."

"Oh well, that's fine then." I was fuming. Damn him, the slippery bastard.

"Agent?" Clydesdale called from the room. Jane opened the door for me, smiling like a two year old at a candy store.

With a glare at Jane I walked through and sat.

"We've decided to confess."

"Ah, I thought you might." Jane controlled his smirk with difficulty. I hated it when he got things right. Braggart.

"See, Lisbon? All for the best. Now we just have to find the other three." We walked back to our department.  
Right. I glanced at my watch. It read 2 am.

"Ok, I want everyone to head home. We'll have a long day tomorrow. Good work, people."

"Bye, Lisbon." Jane beamed at me. I hid a smile and hopped into the elevator, my faithful guards a step behind.

The headquarters were dim, the lighting minimal to save our ever increasing electricity bill. The guards were keeping a stern eye out, their eyes tracking every shadow. I was also a little jumpy, and checked to see that my weapon was loaded and easily accessible.

As I stepped out of the building I heard a noise. I paused and glanced at my guards. They were frowning, and motioned for me to remain where I was. They pulled out their weapons and slowly moved outside, swinging their weapons in half arcs to cover the area.

Suddenly I felt hands wrap around my torso.

"Got you now, Res," a voice whispered in my ear. My elbow drove backwards and I heard it connect, the man releasing me and wheezing. I ran forwards only to have two other men grab me by my elbows. I struggled, and started yelling. I tried to go for my gun, only to realise it was missing. The first guy...

The guards spun back and instantly took in the situation they began to move forward, realising they couldn't take a shot without risking me.

Gun shots rang out as the first man stood, my gun smoking in his hands. Theatrically he blew at the barrel.

"Res, Res, Res. You couldn't leave us alone, could you?" he pulled out a knife and slowly moved forward.

He flashed forward, and I felt the cold metal over my throat. The other two men let go of me. Bad idea...

I ducked back from the knife and made a dash, but the man was too quick.

He tackled me, yanking my hands behind my back and pulling my cuffs off my belt, clapping them around my wrists. He jerked me up, returning his knife to my neck.

"You ready, honey?" he whispered in my ear.

He slammed me against the car-park wall, holding me to the rough bricks with his hips, hard between my legs. The knife against my throat slipped a little, leaving a stinging trail of heat.

He pressed against me, and ran the knife down my chest as far as the fabric of my shirt allowed. I shuddered.

Keeping his weapon steady, he bent to my neck and licked of the blood his weapon had left. My skin crawled. He breathed heavily on my face. His breath smelt like mint.

He placed the knife on my shirt. I jerked, pushing against him, almost taking him by surprise. With my arms shackled (my own cuffs!) behind me, he easily pushed me back against the wall.

"Steady, Res, darlin'," he leered at me, licked his lips suggestively, and again placed his knife on my shirt. Ready for my struggles, he easily held me, and sliced down the front of my shirt.

He ran his hand beneath the torn fabric.

"Mmmmm. Yummy." His gaze found the street light several metres away, and the prone bodies of my guards. He jerked his head at the men arrayed behind him, watching his progress with me.

"Let's clear out. We'll finish with Res -" he tightened his hold on me and pressed close around me, making me tense and gasp, "-in a more private area."

The men's faces showed disappointment. I was sickened. I struggled as the men picked me up. They were invasive in the positioning of their hands, and I did my best to avoid their assault.

"There, woman; a little bit of this, a little bit of that-Jacey's good for you, you'll see."

The larger of the men ran his free hand fully from my knee to my armpit, his hand pausing in its movement as it slid under the shreds of my shirt. His eyes followed its progress.

"In the van, Jace," Trundle snarled. Jace looked sulky, stopping his advances but leaving his hand where it was, drawing small circles on the sensitive skin. "Later, sweet. I'll take you later."

I was lowered into a stretcher, the type with straps to hold the patient down. Guess what happened.

As he tightened the straps, Jace glanced at Trundle.

"So. Do we all get a go? Or is she yours only?"

Damn. This wasn't good. I needed to get away quick...

Trundle barely glanced at Jace.

"Of course you get a go. But," Trundle turned to be face to face with Jace, "She's mine first."

Jace nodded, a satisfied smile on his face. He bent down and whispered in my ear.

"You're going to pay for getting Mc Dougit and Clydesdale, girl. You're going to have to cough up something special."

They put me in a room that resembled a walk-in freezer or closet. Metal walls, no windows, big, immovable door. They left the hand cuffs on me.

A bowl of water was left with me, so I drank as much as I could before placing it safely in a corner. Who knew when I'd be getting more?

I didn't know how long I'd been missing. I wondered how long it would take for my team to realise.

My eyes flickered to the door. Someone was coming. I moved up beside it. I planned for a knee in the groin and a head butt in the nose.

The door opened, and I prepared myself. I leapt around the door, executing the knee perfectly, making the... first guy... damn. The second man slammed into me, pressing me against the far wall with an arm on my neck, a smirk on his smooth face.

"You right, Jace?" Trundle queried, looking behind him.

"Fine," the man grunted.

"I'll let you know when it's your turn."Jace limped out.

The door closed.

"Now, Res. The first time I caught you I said it would be fun to take your bonds off, so-"

He rammed me against the wall, pulled out keys from his pocket and undid my cuffs. Immediately I tried to punch him in the solar plexus. He spread his body against mine, locking me to the wall and making it very difficult to move.

His head bent down and he captured my lips in a violent war. I tried to bite his tongue, but he grabbed my face and crushed it to his own, making it harder.

He pulled back and I bit his lip. He jerked. I licked my own swollen lips. Damn. I was in deep trouble.

He ran a finger down the side of his mouth, a half smile taking his features as the droplet of blood from his lip welled on his finger. He grabbed my face and shoved his finger into my mouth. It was my turn to jerk. Before I could reflexively bite down he removed his finger.

"So we like to play rough, Res, my sweet? I can do that." He crushed me into him. "I'm good at rough."

He grabbed me and threw me at another wall. I slid down it, stunned. Crap, crap...

He stood over me and swung a leg down so he was sitting on my waist. I bucked, trying to unseat him. He picked me up and smashed me back into the floor. I coughed and my back arched a little as I tried to minimise my pain. He pressed himself against me, his weight pinning me to the floor. His mouth trapped mine, and his hands roamed ceaselessly beneath my clothing.

I gasped as he dragged at my pants, pulling them down my waist along with my undergarments. My struggling intensified.

His hands moved between my legs. I bucked, managing to hit him in the cheek. He was momentarily stunned and I pulled myself from underneath him and made a break for the door. As I reached it, he dove at me, knocking me to the ground. As I attempted to get up, he yanked his own pants down. He pushed me into the ground with his hands and trailed his stiff tool down my body. Shit, I had to get out of this...

"Trundle! Trundle." The door was wrenched open and Francis appeared, looking breathless.

"Shit, Francis, what's wrong with you?" Trundle looked pissed.

"The cops have pulled up, man. I don't know how, but they found us! We gotta leave now!"

He left and Trundle looked shocked.

He looked back at me.

"Fuck!" he shouted in my face. He rammed into me once, missing completely-thank god- then jumped up and ran out the door. "I _will_ take you, bitch. Sooner or later. You'll see..."

I pulled myself off the ground, wincing and yanking my pants back up. I used the wall to steady myself. Thank god. It was over.

I slowly made my way to the door.

As I stepped out something slammed into me, and the next thing I knew, I was back against the wall, pinned against it by a large body. Déjàvu?

"We're going down, Teresa. I'm gonna make sure you pay for it first."

I groaned and fought against Jace. Damn, just when I thought this was over.

He pulled out a knife and sliced down the front of my trousers. He wrenched his own down, all the while fixing me to the wall with his weight. He pressed up against me, his palms finding the inside of my thighs and pushing them outwards. I resisted with all my strength, but he thrust his hips between them, forcing them back. He began to pant.

"I've got you now, babe."

He began a rhythm. I struggled, almost sobbing with frustration. I screamed.

"Fuck you, arsehole!"

Damn, he was almost in. Shit, shit, shit...

A noise from the door.

"Oh fuck..." I heard a shot and Jace froze mid thrust. He slid down my front to the floor, and I followed him as he no longer held me up. I pulled the front of my pants closed and curled up on the floor.

Rigsby ran forward and checked the man on the floor.

"Still alive..." he placed hand cuffs on the man before flattening him out to scope the wound

"Lisbon? Shit, Lisbon?" I heard Jane come up beside me. I flinched as he touched me.

"It's okay, it's just me Lisbon." He hesitated. "I'm going to have to pick you up, Lisbon. Are you hurt anywhere I need to watch?"

I shook my head, staying curled up, not opening my eyes.

He gathered me into his arms and I flinched again, fighting the urge to struggle against him.

"It's okay now, Lisbon. I've got you. The men are gone, no-one's going to hurt you anymore."

He smoothed my hair back from my face. I curled into his chest and began to sob.

"Is she going to be okay?"Jane asked the nurse. It was three hours after he'd given her to the ambulance.

"She's in shock. She has a little hypothermia and she's dehydrated. There's some physical bruising, but what you're going to have to take care of is the mental and emotional damage." The nurse looked at him seriously. "She wasn't raped, but it was very, very close. Judging from the release we found on her, a few more moments and the damage would be even worse. This is going to take a while for her to recover. She may have trouble with touch and close contact for a while. It could last a few weeks, or it could last years." Again the nurse hesitated. "She may have developed a fear of men-be careful how you approach her. I recommend a psychologist to help her deal with this."

The nurse motioned Jane forward. "You can see her now; she's conscious."

Jane walked forward, looking almost apprehensive.

He paused at my door. I watched him as he entered carefully and sat by my bedside.

"How are you feeling?" he asked gently.

"Better," I smiled at him. He looked like he was about to cry.

"Lisbon, I'm sorry we took so long-" he began distraughtly.

"Hush, Jane. You got there in time. That's all that matters. It could have been worse."

I shifted in my hospital bed.

"Did you get them all?" I asked.

"Yes. I was able to get Mc Dougit to confess to the murders, as well as tell us where to find you. Now we have a confession as well as evidence."

"Good work." He stared at me like I was about to break. "I'm fine, Jane, thanks to you. Don't look so happy about it." I smiled again, trying to lighten the mood. I'd stopped thinking about the kidnapping. I had to forget.

"I thought I'd lost you..." his lip trembled. I opened my arms and hugged him.

"I'm right here. It's okay, Jane, you got there in time. It's over."


End file.
